Healing Our Hearts

by Grace Roberts

  “I’m afraid you’ll simply have to let it win you over if you want to feel any better.” She reached out her hand across the table and patted mine. “You see, Colin, love isn’t black and white; it’s all different colors. You’ve lived the past fourteen years color-blind, and now you’re finally able to see vibrant shades you feel disorientated.” I quirked an eyebrow and she smiled, knowingly. “I understand you’re scared of this new feeling, but it’s time you got over your fears, son. You’re old enough to start thinking about commitment.”

  Commitment. Was that what I wanted with Kathleen? Strangely enough, for the first time in my life the word didn’t scare the hell out of me, nor did it push me in the opposite direction like it had in the past. Did I feel that way because I’d finally found the person I was willing to spend more than a couple of months with?

  “I love her, Gran, and I’m willing to get over all of my fears just to be with her. But I’m not sure this is enough.” I dropped the fork and cracked my knuckles, feeling nervous and sad at the same time. When I looked up, I met Gran’s intense stare. “She still thinks she’d be a burden for me, and that I’ll end up leaving her for someone else. ‘Someone normal’, to quote her.”

  Gran took a sip of tea, and waited a moment before saying anything.

  “Well, now you know how it feels when someone you really like pushes you away because she’s scared,” she said, in a very serious tone, and I understood perfectly where she was going before she even said the next words. “Isn’t that what you did with the girls you used to date, Colin? Didn’t you push them away because you were scared to get involved? I know you felt you didn’t deserve to be loved because of the sense of guilt you felt over your parents’ death, and now you’re getting the same treatment. She’s pushing you away because she’s scared of having her heart broken.”

  I flinched. She knew the reason I pushed them away? I’d really underestimated her, thinking I could get away with it without her knowing why I was being such a jerk, shoving away any girl who got too close.

  When she noticed my surprise, she smiled and patted my hand again.

  “Yes, I knew why you did it. I never said anything because I figured you’d stop being such an idiot once you found the right one. Seems I was right, after all.”

  Ouch. I knew I’d been a real moron and I deserved whatever Gran threw at me, but hearing it out loud made it all very real—and made me sound really stupid.

  I hung my head and didn’t reply, knowing I deserved to be called an idiot. But I didn’t want to get that same treatment from Kathleen. She was much too important to me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get over her like I had with every girl I’d dated.

  “She’s been through a lot in the past three months and now that the last flicker of hope is lost, she’ll need time to adjust to her new life. She’s, what, twenty-something?” she asked, and I nodded. “She’d probably made plans for her future, and she’ll have to revise them now. She’ll need to feel at ease with herself before she can feel at ease with someone else.”

  She gave me a moment to let the words sink in and I realized she was right. I’d needed much more than three months to come to terms with the fact I’d never see my parents again, and that I’d have to leave my old life behind to start anew in a foreign country where I didn’t know anyone. At least I could walk and I hadn’t had to worry about needing other people’s help.

  Kathleen would always need to depend on other people and, although I was happy to be there for her, I understood it must be awful to her. So young and unable to live her life to the fullest, doing things other people her age did, and experiencing what all couples did.

  I hadn’t thought of that, blinded by love like I was. I’d always wanted her to believe I loved her and it didn’t matter she was in a wheelchair. I hadn’t thought that maybe it mattered to her, that she wanted to feel normal.

  “I miss her like crazy, Gran,” I finally admitted, knowing I shouldn’t feel ashamed of what Gran would think. “I saw her only yesterday morning, and last night I was already aching.”

  She chuckled and stared me straight in the eye. “Just give her time to adjust to her new lifestyle, Colin. She’ll only pull away if you keep pushing when she’s not ready. A little time apart will help clear her mind and understand what she wants. Whom she wants.”

  Patience had never really been a virtue I possessed and, although I knew Gran had a point, I couldn’t deny I missed Kathleen more than I’d ever missed anyone. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to cope.

  “So you think I shouldn’t call?”

  She shrugged and stood up to put her cup into the sink. “Just don’t push her. If she eventually realizes her feelings for you, and I’m sure she will, she’ll make the first move.”

  Gran didn’t know her; she didn’t know Kathleen had tried to push me away before she’d finally surrendered to her feelings, temporarily forgetting all the silly obstacles she kept putting in our path. I was sure that, now we were apart with nobody to remind her how important she was to me, she’d slowly drift away and end up depressed and alone—and so would I. I’d never be able to love anyone the way I loved her, and it was something that scared the hell out of me. She had slowly worked her way into my heart and taken possession of my soul. If she left me now, I wouldn’t be able to function properly.

  No, I couldn’t follow Gran’s advice. I wouldn’t wait for her to make the first move. I needed her to know that I loved her, no matter how many miles were between us.

  * * *

  By the time I went back to Dublin three days later, I’d lost all hope of Kathleen making the first move. Once I was back in my apartment I decided to check my mail to keep my mind busy. When I switched on my laptop, the picture Chris had taken on my birthday dinner filled the screen.

  Everything Gran told me flew out the window and I sent Kathleen another text. I tried to be neutral, asked her how she was doing and ended with “I love you”. A few minutes later my mobile beeped with an incoming message and my heart jumped up my throat, almost choking me. I opened the inbox with shaking fingers, and my world crumbled.

  I need time to rearrange my life, and I know I can’t expect you to wait for me. I’ll never forget the weeks we spent together, but I need you to move on. Please understand, and forgive me if you can. K.

  Had she just dumped me with a text message? Had she seriously just said I should move on?

  How could she ask me to understand and forgive her? Why couldn’t she get it in her head that I couldn’t move on with my life because it revolved around her now?

  Sure, I could go out to some pub and I knew I’d end up with a woman’s number in my phone before the night was through—that had never been a problem before. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I was done chatting up girls in pubs and breaking their hearts a week or two later. I wanted Kathleen in my life, nobody else would do—simple as that. She could tell me to move on, to understand, to forgive—I didn’t care what she wanted me to do. I wasn’t going to move on, because I knew she was all I wanted, and I was sure I was what she wanted, too. I’d felt it in the way she kissed me, in the way she melted in my arms, in the way her eyes stared languidly at me when I cuddled her and told her I loved her. She felt something for me. Perhaps it wasn’t as strong as what I felt for her, but I knew this was another of her attempts to push me away because she thought she didn’t deserve me and didn’t want to be a burden.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to get in the car, drive to Galway and knock down her bedroom door, yelling I loved her and wasn’t going to get over her anytime in the next twenty years.

  I counted to ten, then to twenty, and when I reached fifty I was enough in control of my emotions to reply to her text.

  You can ask me to understand and I’ll try, but don’t ask me to get over you ’cause I won’t. Take all the time you need to sort out your life. I’ll still be here when you know what you want. I love you.

  I pressed the send button, and I waited i
n vain for a reply until I eventually fell asleep.

  Chapter 29

  Kathleen

  April 15

  After I received Colin’s last message I stopped pretending I was okay and burst into tears. I’d hoped I’d be able to discourage him with my text, but he’d proven once again his feelings were true. He loved me and didn’t buy any of the stupid excuses I made to try and push him away from me. I wondered if I’d ever be able to just let him love me, if I’d ever be able to trust that my being in a wheelchair wouldn’t get in the way of us being happy together.

  I buried my head in my pillow to stifle the sobs. Maggie was still out with her friends and, knowing her, she wouldn’t be back until one or two in the morning, but I didn’t want anyone in the house to hear me crying. The more I thought of Colin, the more my heart ached and I kept sobbing and crying my eyes out until I eventually fell asleep.

  I woke with a start in the middle of the night after dreaming of Colin introducing me to his new girlfriend who looked exactly like Maggie. My brow was beaded in sweat, and I grabbed my phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time: three-thirty. Maggie’s soft breathing came from the other bed and I wished I could get up and go into the kitchen, make myself a cup of hot milk with cocoa and simply wait for the sun to come up—but this was another thing that had been taken away from me. By the time I’d have managed to get the wheelchair down the narrow hall I was still getting accustomed to, half the house would have been awakened by the noise.

  The last few days I’d been feeling miserable, although I tried to put on a happy face and pretend the fact my mum had to help me do everything didn’t bother me. Everyone was over attentive and, whenever I needed to move from one room to the other, my mum followed me around making sure I didn’t hit something or get the wheelchair caught in the narrow corridor.

  I hated it.

  I hated being treated like a child, like an invalid—although, at the end of the day, it was what I was.

  I’d grown used to being treated almost like a normal person when we were in New York. I’d learned to use the toilet, shower and get dressed without needing anyone’s help, but my mum didn’t quite get it. I’d never really asked her to stop, though, because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I knew she was just acting like a mother caring for her child, but I was afraid she’d never understand how miserable it made me feel.

  Besides, the fact I missed Colin like I missed my legs didn’t help at all. I sighed, as tears stung my eyes, and I opened Colin’s message again just to torture myself a little more.

  I love you.

  Those words flashed like a neon light in the dark, and the familiar rock shifted heavily across my chest once more, settling with a thud only I could hear.

  I needed Declan. I’d grown used to having him around whenever I needed him. He didn’t always show up when I called—he’d explained I was supposed to get used to having to cope on my own—but when I was really low and asked for his help, he appeared and immediately made me feel better. His warm touch filled my body with peace and hope, and the white light surrounding him calmed my nerves.

  I knew I couldn’t say his name out loud like I used to in New York because I didn’t want to wake Maggie. So I shut my eyes and, with a heart full of pain, said his name over and over in my mind, begging him to help me.

  When the familiar warmth spread across my cheek, I opened my eyes and he was there, sitting on my bed, his hand stroking my face.

  “What’s wrong, little Kathy?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle. I wondered if Maggie would see him if she woke up now. He shook his head in response. “I’m here to help you, Kathy. No one but you can see me.”

  I don’t know what to do, Declan.

  At that very moment I wished I could hug him; I needed to feel his arms around me, to know that my brother still loved me and would never leave me alone.

  “Of course I still love you, Kathy.” His eyes never left mine as he spoke. When he stroked my head, a sense of peace pervaded me like warm rain, washing over. “But you have David, too; don’t forget that. He’ll be there whenever you need him. He wants to be there for you, Kathy—give him a chance. You always shut him out and you two grew apart, but it’s time you let him back into your life. Dave’s hurting because you never let him be the brother you needed, the big brother he wanted to be.”

  I looked away. David never cared about me. He’d been the one who’d shut me out of his life.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Declan said, interrupting my train of thought and shaking his head in disapproval. “He’d always been very fond of you until you started looking up at me for everything and left him behind. Even after the accident, you pulled away and never gave him a chance to be the shoulder you could cry on. You shut him out again, and he didn’t need that. I was his brother, too, Kathy. You’re not the only one who grieved.”

  He was right; I’d been so blinded by the pain and all that had come with the accident that I’d never really cared about anyone else but me. I’d only been able to see what I’d lost. I’d been selfish and angry with the world; I’d never thought of anyone else’s grief but mine and I felt awful about it.

  I’m sorry.

  I looked away, feeling ashamed for my behavior. Tears prick my eyes and I blinked.

  “It’s not me you should apologize to, Kathy,” he whispered softly, his hand still stroking my head. “I love you so much, little sister, but there are other people who love you and you should let them into your life.”

  I nodded, knowing he was probably referring to Colin as well.

  Will you stay with me, Declan? Will you hold me until I fall asleep?

  I remembered all the times he’d lain next to me in my bed when I was a child and was scared because of a storm, or a bad dream I’d had. He wouldn’t be able to hug me like he used to when he was alive, but I knew I’d be able to feel him somehow.

  He smiled and nodded, lying down next to me. I stared at him, the glorious white aura around him shining brighter than ever and, as he placed a hand on my eyes, I closed them.

  “Sweet dreams, little Kathy,” he whispered. His warm arms encircled me and I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  * * *

  When I woke up in the morning I felt better than I had in days, and I knew it was all thanks to Declan. I got out of bed and wheeled myself into the bathroom, hoping I’d manage to do it without my mother’s help for once. If she didn’t know I was awake, I could get away with it.

  It was tougher than in New York, because our bathroom was smaller and, at a certain point, my wheelchair got stuck and I had to resign myself to asking for help. My mum rushed into the bathroom and scolded me for not calling her sooner. I smiled apologetically, although all I wanted to do was scream.

  Apart from this minor incident, the rest of the morning flew. My mum decided to make scones and I offered to help. At least that was something I could still do, and it made me feel good. Less useless.

  I made a mental note to start doing things that would make me feel normal. If I ever wanted to be happy again I had to consider doing little things like that and forget about the things I couldn’t do.

  After lunch, I wheeled my wheelchair down the corridor and stopped just outside the boys’ room. The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help peeping in. I hadn’t been in there since Declan died and I wasn’t sure how it would feel. David was still at university, teaching in the department of engineering, so I knew I could be alone with my thoughts for a while, before he came home and caught me there. I didn’t think he would mind if he found me in his room, but I didn’t want to risk a fight or something.

  I pushed the door open and wheeled myself into the room. My heart did a somersault in my chest when I saw all of Declan’s personal belongings, his toy cars still on the shelf over his bed, the poster of the national rugby team on the door of his closet, and the white, orange and green leprechaun hat I’d bought for him a few years ago just before the first rugby match in the
Six Nations. Everything was still exactly as he’d left it when he moved out, and I guessed nobody had the heart to move anything after he died.

  I moved closer. David’s clothes were scattered on his bed and his trainers under the desk. All the mess my brother had left in the room collided with the neat, precise order that had always been a distinctive trait of Declan’s. I took the hat from the shelf and the image of the day I’d forced him to put it on flashed in front of my eyes. I chuckled, alone in the empty room, clutching the hat in my hands for a moment before putting it on my head. I closed my eyes and, as I reminisced about all the matches we watched together in Temple Bar when we were living in Dublin, tears streaked my cheeks. I didn’t bother wiping them away while I lost myself in the happy memories of my days with Declan.

  “Kathy.”

  I gave a start at the sound of my name, and my eyelids fluttered open. David was crouched next to me, his hand on the armrest of my wheelchair, and his eyes filled with concern. For just one tiny fraction of a second, I’d thought Declan had come home. How stupid of me.

  I didn’t have time to say anything or justify my presence because his arms were around me a second later, making the hat fall on Declan’s bed. I slightly flinched, surprised by David’s behavior; he’d never been the hugging–and–kissing kind of brother, and this made me realize how much he’d changed after Declan’s death.

  I finally relaxed as his arms held me tight to his chest. I burst into more tears, clinging to him like he was a lifebuoy in the shipwreck that was my life. He didn’t say a word; he simply kept stroking my back and my hair, trying to comfort me and soothe the pain. Declan was right: David wanted to be my big brother.